


winter wonderland

by ShatterinSeconds



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Eve, Christmas fic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, they're stuck in new york city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13103946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatterinSeconds/pseuds/ShatterinSeconds
Summary: “If my mother doesn’t make at least one remark about wanting to adopt you,” Lance lightly muses, back pressed against the tall windows, “Then I have failed in my boyfriend duties.”“I’ve never been adopted before,” Keith half mumbles, the idea of sleep flickering in his brain and his usual walls weakened.“I know,” Lance says quietly, “But you have my family now.”(or a fic where Keith and Lance are stuck in the airport on Christmas Eve)





	winter wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> Always wanted to write a Christmas themed one shot and I was so happy when I got inspiration--of course this was during class and then I had to alternate between taking notes and writing down my ideas before I forgot. That day was a struggle lol.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

 

Keith’s back hits the wall as he slides down to the carpeted floor, a scowl set on his face and his brows furrowed. Tongue pressed against his teeth, he barely contains a hiss. “Shiro, you’re draining my battery. Stop calling me!”  

“I’m worried,” Shiro states camly over the phone, pretending to ignore the outburst. “It’s your first time out of the country… and it’s a busy day for traveling.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m with Lance and it’s just Cuba. It’s not as if he didn’t live there for _eighteen_ years of his life.” Keith wishes Shiro could see his exaspherated expression.

His eyes wander around the airport, catching onto every little detail of every person, creating intricate and very false life stories in his head while listening to Shiro ramble on. The lady with the large, faux leather purse and brown hair is on her way to meet a lover in a foreign country, a lighter band of skin around her finger where her wedding ring should be. The teenager in the corner, feet up on the chair next to him and an old PSP in his hand, is running away to achieve his dream of backpacking in the alps. The couple walking in front of him--

A sharp, piercing beep cuts through his thoughts as suddenly Shiro’s voice ceases its bagering. The black screen of Keith’s phone awaits him as he draws it away from his ear, scowl deeper now. He had a precious two percent of battery left, and Shiro had greedily taken it all.  

Lanky arms wrap around his shoulders as Lance sneaks up behind him, lips placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. The knit of his winter hat tickles Keith’s skin as Lance nuzzles his nose into his hair. Smiling slightly, Keith leans into the touch, returning the kiss with his chapped lips, eyes still trained on the blank screen.

He had been wondering where Lance had wandered off to.

“Was that Shiro?” Lance asks, though he already knows. Shiro had been calling about every hour like the mother hen he is. “Did you tell him the flight was delayed?”

“No, why worry him?” Honestly, Keith is internally happy that he has someone else besides Lance who cares that much about him. He had met Shiro all those years ago when he was struggling through high school--his younger self even wished that they would become adopted brothers, but that never happened. “He made my phone die though; I hope his snowblower breaks,” Keith mutters darkly, the worst curse he could think of during this blizzard.

“You’re always so nice to him,” Lance chuckles, short brown hair windswept from the storm, and then he holds up his own phone, the screen equally blank and lifeless. “Yeah, so is mine.” Hunk and Pidge probably contributed to that battery drain.

Keith bites his lip. “Too bad _someone_ left the chargers back home on the nightstand.”

“Hey, that was _your_ fault, and you know it,” Lance truthfully argues back, not allowing Keith to pass off the blame.

He nods though, quickly agreeing. In his defense, they were going to be late and both had stupidly decided to pack that morning; they were bound to forget something. Keith had just been hoping it was a toothbrush and not something crucially important. “I hate myself.”

“Don’t say that, you’re perfect.”

“No, I’m not, but you are.”

“K-Keith,” Lance stutters, his cheeks becoming a patchwork quilt of various shades of red, “You just can’t say stuff like that.”

Over the years, Keith has learned to perfect the art of flirting; is it too early to say he has surpassed the master? A pleased smile stretches across his face and he leans closer, replying, “I can and I will.”

Flakes of snow are still tangled in Keith’s hair, despite them having exited the blizzard several minutes ago. Every so often, a few will melt, plastering strands to his cheeks. This is how Lance’s fingers find themselves gently brushing across his pale skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he moves Keith’s locks away. A silent thank-you of sorts.

“I have to ask you though,” Keith eventually breaks the silence. “Why did you have to place our bags down near that gross stain?”

“Excuse me for finding the last free spot in this airport.” But Lance glances over, eyes narrowed as he studies the dark splotch on the gray carpet with piqued interest. Slowly, he inches closer to Keith, much to the other’s amusement. “I’m thinking that’s probably pee… or vomit.”

“Thanks for that vivid image, Lance.” Keith shakes his head; he’s practically sitting on top of him now to conserve the little space they have.

By the time the long delay had been announced for all flights, the roads had been covered with a thick layer of snow, too much to safely drive and find a hotel to stay in--or for him and Lance, to go back to their apartment. Thus, Keith finds himself dreading spending a night on the floor, the carpet smell an unwelcome companion. Lance, of course, makes a beautifully comfy pillow that Keith will enjoy utilizing tonight.

Lance sends a cheeky grin his way. “I try my best.”

“This fucking sucks,” Keith sighs, eyes now tracking the flickering screens.

_Delay, Delay, Delay, Cancelled, Delay_

It’s only a matter of time until all the flights are completely cancelled, and then it will be a true mad rush to the ticket counters.

“You were finally going to meet my family.”

Keith turns his head back to properly look at Lance. Inches away from his face, Keith can clearly count all the freckles that are scattered along his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. There are less than usual since it’s winter time but they’re still as beautiful to look at. “I still will,” Keith gently reminds Lance, beginning to trace his features with his fingers. “This storm won’t last a whole week.”

“Yeah, but now you won’t get to experience the McClain version of Christmas.” Keith’s fingers have reached the bow of Lance’s lip now, feeling the shape of every word he speaks. "We won't get to celebrate Noche Buena."

His lips part as he chuckles, lightly tugging on the hood of Lance’s jacket to draw him ever closer. “If the way you decorated the apartment is any indication of how your family celebrates, I think I experienced most of it already.”

The glimmer in Lance’s blue eyes brightens, as if remembering the little bet they had running to see how long it would take Keith to cave and allow Lance to set up the Christmas decorations. Keith lost the minute the clock hit midnight on Black Friday. “That was only a small portion,” Lance says, “There’s so much more you’re missing out on.”  

The disappointment in Lance’s tone and on his features silently kills Keith, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Weather is an uncontrollable force. Instead, he settles on saying, “Even if we’re probably spending Christmas on a plane for five hours this year, it’s not like I’m ever going to be leaving you. I have all the time in the world to see how your family celebrates the holidays.”

“You say that like you’ve already proposed and we’re already married.” Lance shakes his head while his lips curl at the ends, a bit of happiness peeking through. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, Mullet.”

“Says the person who insisted _they_ wanted to be the one to propose.” Keith holds out his left hand, shoving it in Lance’s face. “I don’t see a ring yet.”

“You’re so impatient. This is why _I’m_ the romantic one.” The laugh is loud and probably obnoxious to the few strangers who turn their head with a scowl, but Lance pays them no attention. This is one of Keith’s favorite sounds, being able to watch the vibrations run through Lance’s body, a sure sign of inexplicably happiness.

Keith leans forward again as Lance’s laughter subsides, ocean eyes continuing to sparkle. “It’s been three months since you said you wanted to propose. I’m only getting older here; I think you’re giving me premature wrinkles.”

“If you used my face masks more often, this wouldn’t be a problem, now would it?” Lance pretends to smooth out the invisible creases on Keith’s forehead and the nonexistent wrinkles near his eyes. He kisses each spot afterwards.

“Hmm,” Keith practically purrs, “That green one did feel nice.”

“I brought that one with me; I’ll get you to use it again,” he vows.

Already conceding, Keith immediately nods with a goofy smile, eagerly imagining a night of them curling next to each other---most likely in Lance’s old bedroom--as the gunk hardens to their faces, the sheets pooling around their bare feet as they fight off sleep. Or maybe they’ll be out on the beach, studying the patterns of the stars, pointing out both fake and real constellations. It’s a tradition they’ve kept ever since their freshman year of college on the main quad.

It had been a perfect thought until a baby screams somewhere in the little cafe area near the closed magazine stand. He hears a few older adults around them sigh as they sink further into their winter coats and quickly place in earbuds. The unlucky few that forgot to bring them, or had been most likely waiting to nab the free ones on the airplane, cringe and try to close their eyes, hoping to get lost in the music of their own minds.

Lance distracts Keith from everything by proceeding with a new topic. “Let’s run over the names of my relatives again. At least the ones you’ll see the most.”

“There are too many,” Keith playfully whines, huddled in his winter coat. It’s red and oversized and lined with the softest fleece material. His eyes can barely see past the hood, the ring of fake fur hanging low in his eyes.

“You look so adorable right now, babe,” Lance gushes, a little louder than he should, as he pats his pockets for his phone until he remembers. “I wish I could snap a picture.” A pretty frown mars his features.

“I look like shit right now, Lance.” Keith cards as hand through his tangled, frizzy locks, pulling at the small knots at the end of his hair. All of his hair ties are in his luggage, and Lance had forgotten to carry a spare one on his wrist this time, like he usually does.   

A devious smile winds its way onto Lance’s face. “I know, that’s the point.”

“You’re horrible,” Keith laughs, shoving Lance lightly in the shoulder and shrugging off his coat as the thick heat starts to attack him.

“You love me though, and that’s all that counts.” He lands a quick kiss on Keith’s lips; a triumphant smile shows itself when he pulls away. “It’ll pass some time if you name them.”

“Alright,” Keith relents as Lance begins to comb through Keith’s hair and methodically work on the tangles. “Let’s see. There’s your Tía Carmen, who stereotypically has a lot of cats, and your niece named one of them Gato.”

“He’s my favorite kitty,” Lance adds.

“Then Tío Arlo who wanted to be a lawyer but settled on becoming a doctor when the legal system wasn’t challenging enough for him.”

“Arlo has always been one to show off,” Lance grumbles, tongue pushing past his lips as he concentrates on Keith’s hair. One side is completely smooth now, the ends tickling his jaw and neck when Lance slides his fingers through.

The rest of the relatives float to the front of his mind with ease. “Your cousin Esteban, who’s the wannabe magician of the family, pretends he was named after the character on _Suite Life of Zack and Cody_ \--”

“No, that one’s a true story. I suggested the name, and Arlo liked it so much that he and his wife kept it. Only later did I tell them why I picked that name.” Lance chuckles at the memory but doesn’t divulge any more. “Esteban’s the only important cousin that I’ll introduce you to; all the other ones are on my hit list.”

“Do I even want to ask why?”

“No, no you don’t.”

Keith nods, though briefly wondering if their conflict was just Lance dramatizing the situation or if it was really something serious. “Okay, then we get to the triplets, your nieces Estella, Isabel, and Sofía, who are you sister Elena’s kids. She is the one who made you passionate about space, and her husband won’t be there this week. Lastly, your older brother Marco is the one who taught you how to sing and play guitar. Oh, and of course your parents Camelia and Rafael.”  

Brown hair and blue eyes and dark skin flood Keith’s vision as Lance sits in front of him, hooking their hands together, a large grin resting on his face. “I’m so proud; I knew you’d get them all.”

Biting his lips, Keith angles his eyes to a sign far behind Lance. “I don’t want to look like a fool so…”

“Please,” Lance quickly responds, squeezing Keith’s hands, “Someone’s going to get so drunk and embarrass themselves that everyone else won’t even remember you’re there.”

“That person’s going to be you, right?” Keith smirks, now staring at him with a mischievous expression swirling through his gray-violet eyes. “Drunk Lance is hilarious. Have you ever seen the videos Pidge records?”

Shooting him a betrayed look, Lance pouts. “You’re such a traitor. I can’t believe you help her _and_ allow her to gain blackmail material.”

“But you just make it so easy.”

Lance opens his mouth to answer but soon closes it, discovering his lack of a decent comeback. Keith has to smirk in victory.

 

Another hour has passed; not much has changed besides the expressions on people’s faces as they become continuously more and more frustrated by this interruption in their holiday plans. Once in awhile, they can hear the howl of the wind as it smacks snow into the large windows. Keith rubs his arms, calming the goose bumps that have spread all over his skin despite the comfortably warm temperature in the airport

Lips lean close to his ears as they whisper, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas--”

“No, nope, not doing this here.” Keith whips his head around, placing a finger delicately on Lance’s lips, locking them together. “We’re not dragging these poor people into another round of singing.”

He does accept the small cup of hot chocolate that Lance had brought back. As Keith’s fingers wrap around the styrofoam cup, a wave of blistering heat shoots into his nerves, burning the pads of his fingers, but he doesn’t mind. Steam clings to Keith’s nose as he brings the drink to his lips; the airport hot chocolate looks a tad watery, clumps of powder still undissolved, but the rich, chocolatey smell rests on his tongue, enticing him. Before taking a sip, he stares at Lance’s pout, tempted to kiss it away in compensation, but then Lance speaks.

“I know Pidge calls you the Grinch, but you have to have some Christmas spirit.” Without blinking, Lance snatches back the drink, practically chugging it with a smirk as he releases a satisfied sigh afterwards. A smudge of chocolate stains the corner of his lips and his upper bow.

Keith watches those spots with piqued interest, wondering how he should go about this:

1) Tell Lance and let him clean it

2) Clean his mouth for him with a napkin or with his fingers

or

3) Kiss the chocolate away  

“I do; you _know_ I do. I just don’t want to show it around a bunch of strangers,” Keith replies honestly, while simultaneously deciding to proceed with option three.

“What about with my family?”

Keith stills in his movements, head now arched upwards to properly look Lance in the eyes. A serious expression sits on Lance’s face, eyebrows turned upward in curiosity, and his whole body leans in closer, desperately wanting to hear the answer.

The answer is immediate; this doesn’t surprise Keith though. He has thought about this for a long time. “Well,” he begins, lips itching to break into a tiny grin, “They’re not going to be strangers for long.”

“Not if I have anything to do about it,” Lance promises, a firm tone attached to his words.

In the end, Keith relents to Lance singing his Christmas toons, and in return he obtains his share of the hot chocolate. It tastes much better coming from Lance’s lips than when it had originally been in the cup.

 

It’s past midnight by the time Keith decides to no longer fight off his exhaustion, curling up with Lance and allowing him to play with his hair as usual. The rhythmic pattern is a consistent method to help ease his mind into sleep.

“If my mother doesn’t make at least one remark about wanting to adopt you,” Lance lightly muses, back pressed against the tall windows. “Then I have failed in my boyfriend duties.” Wisps of his brown hair are colored gold from the runway lights, his whole body practically outlined in the soft glow.

“I’ve never been adopted before,” Keith half mumbles, the idea of sleep flickering in his brain and his usual walls weakened. Lance knows about his life pre meeting each other--of the foster homes and that one orphanage--but it is still unusual for him to share it aloud. Tension straightens Lance’s body, cautious. Keith remains unaware, already sliding into a half dream-like state. He can’t even hear the bustle of the packed airport anymore--the babies crying and the people snoring.

“I know,” Lance says quietly, body finally relaxing, “But you have my family now.”

Keith’s head rests on Lance’s thighs, fingers splayed onto his jeans, and Lance begins to automatically card a hand through his hair again, nails scraping against his scalp. “Will you show me Varadero beach?” His words ask for a place of heat even though his dreams are already covered in snow.

“Of course.”

“We have to build sandcastles too,” Keith insists, lips parted into a lopsided, widening grin, “With seashells and seaweed for decoration.”

“We can compete against my nieces to see who can make the best one,” Lance promises with a smile on his lips. “We’ll win of course.”  

“I’m looking forward to it.” Keith yawns silently. Lance often tells him he looks like a cat whenever he yawns or when he falls asleep on the couch at odd times, usually as the sun from the window drapes over his body; Keith was never one to believe him. “I have the best partner, after all.”

He can feel Lance smile.

“You should go to bed,” Lance suggests, reaching over to lay his winter coat across Keith’s back.

“Lance?” Keith shoots up suddenly, eyes wide as if needing to say the most important thing there is. The thick coat begins to slide off his shoulder until his reaction time catches up with his sleep addled brain.

He quirks his lips, cocking his head. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

The smile Keith receives is beyond blinding. “I love you too.”  


Later, Keith wakes up with a quick shove to his shoulder. Groggily, he blinks his eyes repeatedly, frowning when he meets Lance’s too chipper expression for this late at night in an airport. Almost everybody seems to be asleep now, except for the lone few who are illuminated by the flickering white light of their various electronics. It takes him a while to realize Lance’s arm is raised above their heads, some type of green plant hanging from his fingers.

“What’s that?” he asks, sitting up now, an eyebrow arched in disbelief.  

“Mistletoe,” Lance states matter of factly, rocking back and forth of the balls of his feet in anticipation. Then he kneels down to match Keith’s height.

“Where the hell did you find something like that?” He meets Lance with an incredulous stare.

“Someone gave it to me.” It’s a vague reply, vague enough that it causes Keith to scoff.

“Oh great, we’re taking things from strangers now.” Keith narrows his eyes at the offending planet above him. “It’s probably weed.”

“It’s not!” Lance protests.

“It is.” A smile flickers on his face.

“Not!”

Keith leans his body forward until his nose is inches away from Lance’s face. Blue eyes encapture most of his vision. “Is too,” he breathes as if it is a secret.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Lance whispers, a small, impatient growl hidden at the back of his throat.

He does.

**Author's Note:**

> Some bonus notes:  
> 1) Despite the fact that Keith and Lance could have easily bought replacement chargers, they forgot that they could (because so did I).  
> 2) The reason why some of Lance’s cousins are on his hit list is because they once told him that being bi was just a phase between straight or gay. Instead of arguing, he’s just decided never to talk to them again.  
> 3) Lance’s mom asks to adopt Keith a total of three times--once when they first meet, then when he’s the only one to help clean up after dinner (bc the whole McClain family is too lazy to do chores), and lastly when Lance just gushes to her one morning about how amazing he is.  
> 4) Lance proposes on Varadero beach when no one’s around and just as the sun sets. Keith cries despite accidentally finding the ring box a few days earlier when they were unpacking.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


End file.
